


heavy with the devil

by RattyCatty



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/F, Past Daniel Colter/Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Porn with Feelings, Recreational Drug Use, Rock Stars, maleficent is an edgy rockstar chad who smokes cherry juicy jays like some lana del rey tumblr bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 00:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RattyCatty/pseuds/RattyCatty
Summary: Regina Mills is eighteen and aching.A run-away, a basement show, and a lonely gay rockstar with a taste for cherry.(Or, a fill for the irresistible "i’m a rockstar and you’re a fan who snuck in and do you maybe wanna help me ‘blow off some steam’ back stage because ur A) really hot and B) pretty obviously willing" AU)





	heavy with the devil

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt from (https://clairelutra.tumblr.com/post/128952623945/pwp-aus-because-wth-not-nsfw) - "i’m a rockstar and you’re a fan who snuck in and do you maybe wanna help me ‘blow off some steam’ back stage because ur A) really hot and B) pretty obviously willing“ au because it sounded fun and I couldn't resist storybrooke drug-lord mafia mal becoming stoner sexy rockstar mal and regina _definitely_ would have been a rebellious teen if she'd grown up in the land without magic.
> 
> warnings: non-graphic mentions of abuse/rape, mentions of cora being shitty, mentions of past regina/daniel half-sex, weed smokin', mild alcohol use, swearing, smut, metal, vague D/s vibes if you squint but not super overt. all dragon queen sexy goodness! ;)
> 
> if you want a point of reference, I kind of imagined the band to sound like something between halestorm and hole and a female nine inch nails and like...evanescence maybe. a whole mess but that's the vibe. (let's say they're very versatile ok *cough*)

Regina Mills is eighteen and aching.

Daniel is dead, an alleged tragic accident, but mother had seemed all too gleeful, armed with a line of potential suitors almost immediately. The arranged dates are almost worse, because each is a reminder of the _agony _of losing Daniel, and most of them are old enough to be her father. They look at her like a piece of meat from across the dinner table and it makes her want to crawl out of her fucking skin.

She’s eighteen and aching, so one night, she sneaks out, hitches a ride with a stranger into the city and vanishes for a little while. Mother is away, and she’ll be back in the morning before Daddy even notices. She just wants to see the world, wants to talk to someone who doesn’t make her skin itch or her hands shake.

There’s a show on – the Queens of Darkness, a poster proclaims, with a photo of three dressed-up ladies scowling and an address, so she finds her way there and sneaks in round the back so as not to get recognised. Mother has eyes everywhere, you see.

The stairs down are steep and creaky, and she’s dumped out into a smoky basement filled with people dressed in dark clothes. It reeks of old beer and dry ice and she shivers. It’s _wonderful._

Everything Cora would hate, so it is everything Regina loves as of now.

She slips into the front of the crowd, head down, and no one notices her. No one looks at her, no one cares. And her timing is good, because minutes later three women stride onto the stage. The one who picks up a bass guitar is tall and thin, wearing a PVC jumpsuit and fur coat that must be sweltering under the hot lights, and the woman who steps up to the microphone is elegant and shapely, dark skin and dark hair and the voice of a siren. The third is platinum blonde and dressed in dramatic flairs and a sheer black shirt that dips to her navel and teases a hint of pale skin and soft breasts.

It’s she who Regina finds herself unable to look away from.

When the music starts, the throng of fans around her start moving, jumping, jostling one another, and Regina doesn’t know how to dance to this, because it’s _wildly _different to everything Cora has taught her. So she just does what feels good, undulates her body and nods her head and jumps during the faster, angrier songs, and finds herself sweaty and high with joy and freedom.

The Queens sing about revenge, their lyrics visceral and yet beautiful, melodic in the singer’s angelic voice. The guitars are harsh behind her, but it _works _somehow, and it strikes Regina in her chest. They sing of anger and hurt and everything Regina has ever felt and never said – disgust, fear, rage, _power_. And they sing of love – passionate and burning, and filthy, lewd lyrics about fucking, with slow and dirty guitars that make her shudder. Regina _loves it._

When her eyes slip back to admire the blonde guitarist, she’s shocked to find piercing blues staring right at her. Pouting, pink lips curl up into a seductive smile under the flashing lights and something coils inside Regina, low and hot and nothing like she’s ever felt before.

It feels dirty. It feels sexy.

The blonde drops to her knees for a solo, and her head tilts back in bliss, eyes shut and lips parted. Her fingers slide up and down over the neck of her instrument, playing intricate patterns with impossible dexterity, and something about it seems terribly obscene. Regina _wants _in a desperate way. Not like she had wanted Daniel – more intense, less emotional, a hungry urge to press her own lips to the woman’s exposed throat, to lick and suck and watch her unravel.

When the final chords screech off into faint distorted noise and the Queens exit the stage, the crowd starts to thin out and Regina is left standing in awe. She doesn’t want to leave, dreads the thought of making her way back home to a place full of bad memories and loss. So she stands, drags it out as long as she can.

“I hope you enjoyed the show,” a low voice says from behind her. Regina spins and shit, it’s the blonde from the band, tall and _close._

Regina stammers for a response. “Yes, indeed,” she manages, “You’re very good.”

The older woman smiles, smug but not unpleasantly, not like mother’s suitors bragging about their money but instead something that _exudes _power. She leans in closer, her breath warm against Regina’s cheek, and purrs, “I couldn’t help but notice you watching me.”

She smells of whisky and cigarettes, earthy and something herbal, and Regina wants to breathe her in, to lean in and kiss that stupid, smug smirk away. She’s been caught again, Regina realises with a sigh, because she’s been too silent for too long and now those plump, pink lips are parting again. “Would you like to come backstage for a drink with me and the girls?”

And so Regina ends up squeezed next to Maleficent the guitarist on a shitty, worn-out couch in the back room, drinking cheap, warm beer and being introduced to a rock band. The other women, Cruella and Ursula, have long since given up on pleasant conversation in favour of bickering with an older man – skinny, haggard, pointy-faced, and they’re arguing about money, payment, fees, and about _you’d do better if you did this next time_, and god, even here, everything is about power and money, isn’t it?

“So, your first Queens gig, then?” Mal asks lightly, leaning back. Her thigh is warm against Regina’s, impossibly so, burning through her thin leggings.

“Is it that obvious?” Regina murmurs, and Mal chuckles, deep and throaty, stretches her arm back to rest atop the couch-back, behind Regina’s head.

“No. But I don’t think I would have forgotten seeing you around before,” she replies, smooth as ever, and places a hand-rolled cig between her lips. There are little red cherries printed all over the thin paper and – no, a joint, Regina realises, and feels suddenly young, suddenly silly. Maleficent lights it with a practiced roll of her thumb and Regina watches the glowing tip, the plume of smoke, and wonders what in the hell she’s doing here.

She’s way out of her depth.

If she was anyone else, with anywhere better to go than back to the prison she calls a home, she imagines she’d excuse herself and leave. But she’s not, and there isn’t, so she sits calmly and feels heat pool in her belly as Mal exhales a cloud of curling smoke. There’s something erotic about the ritual of her motions – joint between lips, inhale, exhale through parted lips, maybe a swipe of her pink tongue over the bottom one, repeat.

She becomes slow and smooth, sinking deep into the upholstery, all tension leaving her body. It looks nice, to not worry, to not be braced for everything all the time, even in her private moments. Daniel had told her once weed made him anxious when he tried it, but watching Maleficent now, Regina desperately covets that relaxed high.

A moment later, the joint is delicately offered to her with a raised eyebrow, and Regina thinks _fuck it. _

“You don’t have to if it’s your first time, little one,” Mal promises, and that slight hint of concern, and _little one_that should irritate her has Regina growing slick between her thighs, needy for the illusion of care.

“Give that here,” Regina just says, and Mal’s lips pull up into a proud smirk as she passes the joint. She inhales, coughs and winces as the hot smoke burns down into her lungs.

Mal is a hairs breadth away, breathing guidance into her ear so quietly no one else in the room can hear. “Hold it – and then exhale, that’s it.” Her warm breath spills over the shell of Regina’s ear and she shudders, takes another drag and it’s easier this time. Easier the third time round too, which is just about when her brain starts to feel nice and fuzzy and slow. She exhales the smoke and goes cross-eyed watching it coil up into the air in front of her face, in front of Mal’s.

“You’re a natural,” she says and plucks the joint from between Regina’s distracted fingers.

Mal is beautiful – like, ridiculously so, almost preternaturally so. Regina stares and stares, and the blonde seems to make a show of smoking for her. And then she inhales, does something different, leans in close and places her finger on Regina’s lower lip. _Open._

She obeys, eyes wide and searching the other woman’s face and then fluttering shut as Mal exhales a lungful of smoke into her mouth. Regina half gasps in arousal, half _inhalesholdsexhales_, and it’s intimacy she’d never even considered before. Their mouths are still close, two fingers still on Regina’s bottom lip, and she thinks _fuck it _for a second time and leans in close.

And, dear _god, _Mal tastes like shared smoke and beer and a hint of spices and herbs, something heady, and her hand is possessive on Regina’s jaw, the joint stubbed out and forgotten. Regina tangles her fingers into that thick, crimped blonde hair and moans softly as her mouth is teased open just enough for Mal’s tongue to slip inside, against Regina’s, flicking gently, always teasing.

It’s _nothing _like Daniel. He had been gentle, all puppy-love and teasing touches through her clothes but never daring to _steal her virtue_before they marry. Mal feels filthy, sensual, a kind of slow-building high that sets Regina’s whole body alight.

“Oh, god,” Regina moans softly when they part. She is painfully aware of the slow, wet throb of her core. She’s never done this properly, enthusiastically, never with Daniel, never with any boy of her own choosing (thinks of a fatefully dinner party after Daniel’s death and one of the younger suitors she’d dared to become friends with and _it’s expected of you, Regina, you have to know how to please a man _and thinking of that makes her feel sick so she has to stop), and especially never with a girl but she feels an eager neediness with this woman and so she slides over into Mal’s lap.

“You’re irresistible, Regina,” Mal says, low and husky as her thumb caresses her cheek.

Regina teases through her arousal, “I bet you say that to all the girls,” but then she’s shifting and a thigh ends up pressed against the apex of her thighs and she can’t resist rolling her hips once, twice.

“I really don’t,” the other woman promises. Her eyes are suddenly dark with arousal, her hands gripping Regina’s hips. “Not to be presumptuous, but would you help me blow off some steam? You can say no and I won’t question it, but gods, I _want you_,” she groans in a low rumble. “And I think you want this too,” she whispers, rubbing a hand up Regina’s thigh, dangerously close to her heat.

“_Yes,” _Regina gasps, “Yes.” And then she looks up, becomes aware of her surroundings and flushes with the thought of practically dry-humping in front of strangers, but Ursula, Cruella, and the man have conveniently vanished.

And with her consent, Mal’s mouth is quickly _everywhere _– open-mouthed kisses on her throat, gentle bites and bruising suckling soothed with a teasing tongue, that same warm mouth moving lower until it hits the barrier of Regina’s silk camisole and lace bra. All she can do is moan softly, rock her hips into the warm body beneath her, feeling the pleasure spark and the slickness grow. “_Please,” _she groans quietly, shyly, and isn’t sure what she’s begging for but _wants_all the same.

In response, Mal pushes her leather jacket slowly off her shoulders, onto the floor, and then helps her out of the silk top. Regina feels exposed, suddenly cold in this weird backroom with an older woman, but there are warm, strong hands gentle at her waist, rubbing up her sides. “We can stop anytime you want,” she promises, and Regina shakes her head, hot all over again.

“I want you,” she breathes, wobbly as the older woman drops to kiss the top of her breasts, nuzzling the soft skin. “I want you to fuck me,” she finishes lowly, shuddering at the way the dirty words sound falling from her own lips. She thinks of the lyrics earlier, of the singer’s lewd murmurings and it feels right. Feels better than simpering agreements and cautious whispers behind her mother’s back.

It must sound good, because Mal _moans _and then she pushes the lace cup down, making space for her mouth to settle over a hard nipple, hot and teasing. “Whatever you want,” she promises huskily, flicking her tongue against the bud. Her hand is playing down Regina’s stomach, stroking lower and lower until she hits the button on her dark jeans and slowly slips it through the hole.

Anticipation blooms low in Regina’s gut, tense and desperate, so she rolls her hips a little harder. Each roll has those pale blue eyes darkening with arousal, and Regina delights in it, in the effect she is apparently having on this powerful woman. She watches for a moment and then a hand is slipping into the front of her open jeans, beneath her panties, into her warmth where she _needs _her touch. _Oh, _she moans quietly, trembling, and Mal strokes her back soothingly while her long fingers swipe through her heat, circling her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Regina’s head drops onto Mal’s shoulder as she bucks up into the touch and just _feels_. Her whole body is thrumming with the high of the joint, lighting up all over, electric and responsive. Maleficent touches her and it feels like their filthy songs, like heavy, lazy guitar riffs and seductive words, like Mal’s fingers moving fast on the strings when she speeds up, enters her and has Regina gasping.

It’s not long before she’s mewling, thighs trembling, right on the edge of orgasm – she’s only experienced this with someone else once before, when Daniel had rubbed her through her pants, rubbed her until she’d been chasing his fingers, desperate for skin on skin but just coming in her underwear because _I want to wait until we’re husband and wife, Regina, I want to do it right. _She’d waited and he’d died, and she’d never had another orgasm with anyone but herself after that.

Now, she’s teetering, shaking, and Maleficent is fucking her like she knows exactly what she needs. Two fingers inside her, her thumb teasing her clit, flicking and rubbing in circles, and she’s almost there, she just needs – just needs a little more –

“Come for me, baby,” Mal breathes. “I want to see you come undone.”

And Regina does. Her whole body goes rigid except her hips, which keep moving of their own accord, like a woman possessed. The _pleasure, _it’s far more than it had been then, skin against wet skin far more intense somehow, and she can’t help but cry out – wordless, and then, “Oh, fuck, Mal–”

“That’s it, that’s it,” the blonde soothes, her fingers slowing, her movements turning soft and gentle as she comes down from her high. Then those delicious fingers slip out of her and Regina misses them immediately.

Mal brings one up to her mouth and licks it clean and _god, _this woman is just a master of seduction. Regina is warming up again at the sight, and she catches a thin wrist before the second one is licked clean. Slowly, sensually, she draws it to her lips and bites down gently before taking it in her mouth and tasting herself.

“_Shit,” _Maleficent hisses under her breath, watching her with pupils blown wide. “You taste exquisite, don’t you agree?” she murmurs, and then appears to have an idea, and smiles slyly. “Let me show you just how much I love the taste of you.”

And then she flips them, so Regina is on the couch, and moves lower, kneeling between her thighs on the old carpet. Her jeans are peeled off slowly, down her legs just enough to make room, her lace panties coming down with them, and she’s exposed, but she barely has time to feel self-conscious. Mal’s mouth settles over her, kissing the apex of her thighs, left, right, and then closer, right on her clit, a hot open-mouth kiss with her teasing tongue. Regina groans and can’t _believe _anything that’s happening, but she just shuts her eyes and slips her hand into blonde hair and _feels. _

When they’re both sated, when they’ve both shook with pleasure and tasted and touched, Regina curls into Maleficent’s side on the worn couch. In the next room, there’s some loud, thumping metal playing and raucous, slurring voices filtering through the door – the others and the man, Regina muses.

She lets her fingers run over pale skin and traces the beautiful tattooed image of a dragon that curls up around the curve of Mal’s hip, down her thigh, up her stomach. She doesn’t want to leave this moment, leave this woman and the safety of anonymous rebellion in the back of a grotty underground venue. She thinks of going back home to a towering house and mother’s rules and the older men who’ll be courting her at next week’s dinner and wants to puke.

As if sensing her anxiety, Maleficent ask, “Where are you going tonight?”

Regina exhales through her nose slowly and shrugs minutely. “Back home, I suppose. My mother…doesn’t know I’m gone. I should be back before she gets home tomorrow, hitch a ride if I can.” Her voice leaks dread, and the other woman hums knowingly.

After a moment – “Stay. Stay with me for a few hours tonight. We can drive you back in the tour van and you’ll be back by morning.” She whispers conspiratorially, “No one will even know you were gone, or what an adventure you had.”

Regina chuckles, and then nods when she sobers up. _Ok. _The other woman presses a kiss to the top of her head, hugs her closer.

“Thank you,” Regina murmurs, so quietly she’s almost inaudible. “For…seeing me, really seeing me.” Her fingers play over the other woman’s ribs, up the slope of her breast. “Your songs, your lyrics – I’ve never heard anything like them, it’s like you said everything I’ve never been strong enough to say.”

“Oh, Regina,” Maleficent breathes. “People in this world are cruel. _Men _in this world are cruel. They’ll tell you what to do and how to be and…you are stronger than you know, little one,” she promises, her voice smooth and rumbling.

Regina closes her eyes and inhales the soft scent of sweat, beer, sweet smoke, old leather. And she believes, for the first time in a long time – believes in herself, believes in a world beyond mother and her suitors and her plan, a world where Regina is _Regina _and strong and makes her own happiness. She believes and she memorises everything about this moment, and when she is dropped off in her hometown, she returns to the memory of _skin smoke rumbling voice_, of _little one _and _stronger than you know._

When she goes home, she’s braver than when she left, and a year later, she finds herself in the city again, this time a free woman here to stay. She slips down into an underground basement and is met with warm arms and bright laughter and the smell of smoke with a hint of cherry.

**Author's Note:**

> ...and that girl grew up to be roni :D


End file.
